This day day dawes

This day day dawes

This gentill day dawes,

This gentill day dawes

And I must go home.

In a glorius garden grene

Sawe I syttyng a comly quene

Among the flouris that fresth byn.

She gaderd a floure and set betwene;

The lyly-whight rose methought I sawe

The lyly-whight rose methought I sawe,

And ever she sang:

This day day dawes...

In that garden be flouris of hewe;

The gelofir gent that she well knewe

The flour-de-luce she did on rewe,

And said - 'The white rose is most trewe

This garden to rule be ryghtwis lawe'.

The lyly-whyghte rose methought I sawe,

And ever she sang:

This day day dawes...